Thursday, October 23, 2008

placid blue





There is no magic any more,
We meet as other people do,
You work no miracle for me
Nor I for you.

You were the wind and I the sea—
There is no splendor any more,
I have grown listless as the pool
Beside the shore.

But though the pool is safe from storm
And from the tide has found surcease,
It grows more bitter than the sea,
For all its peace.




sarah teasdale
                 

2 comments:

adaeus said...

Υποκλίνομαι κυρά μου :))

Dawkinson said...

η κυρά της λίμνης? :)))))

diagnosis

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i have nothing to declare, but a can of tuna